Thin Air
by augiesannie
Summary: Where are the boundaries between sleep and waking, between reality and imagination, between past and future? No matter. Maria and Georg are destined to find each other. "Two happy lovers have the eternal life of the Natural." Please leave me a review!


**Thin Air**

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

He was burning up, parched with thirst, his skin so dry it might crack if he so much as moved a muscle. It must be a desert, this place. But what would a sailor be doing in the middle of a desert, far from the tumble of ocean waves and salty breezes?

He wasn't alone, he knew that much, because he could hear voices nearby:

"Not him too!"

"His daughter is recovering, but he's much worse."

"He's stronger than an ox, but if his fever doesn't break soon..."

"Those poor children!"

He was relieved to hear the familiar sound of ringing bells. There was no other sound in the world like the bells of Nonnberg Abbey. So he was in Salzburg after all. But where the devil was Agathe? Someone placed a cool palm on his forehead to soothe the headache that raged there, but he knew without asking that it wasn't her, and the disappointment was heartbreaking.

When the tide overtook him, he welcomed oblivion.

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

He woke sometime later to the soft whickering of horses, and the warm, comforting odors of hay, leather and horseflesh. For a moment he thought he was back in his grandparents' barn, though he hadn't been there in twenty years or more.

The sound of a child's whimper. He shuffled frantically around the dimly lit barn, trying to locate the source, until he found her in the corner. A girl, barely older than his own daughters, with worn, patched clothing and coppery braids, curled up behind a pile of hay bales.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

The girl stood and faced him, affecting a brave pose although he could see the fear on her face. "Nothing." she said fiercely, knuckling the tears from her cheeks. Her blue eyes burned brightly in her pale, freckled face. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I-I'm a sea captain," he explained.

She wrinkled her nose. "You don't look at all like a sea captain. Where's your eyepatch?"

"That's a pirate you're thinking of," he smiled. "A sea captain is like a soldier, only on the water instead of on the ground. He's in command of a ship and dozens of men. At least, that's what I used to do..." he trailed off, frowning.

"Are you real or am I dreaming?" Maria inquired. It wasn't the first time she'd scrambled to safety in a neighbor's barn when her uncle set upon her with fists and belt. But usually, she was too frightened to fall asleep again so quickly. Yet surely this man must be part of a dream.

"I don't know the answer to that myself," he admitted. "Now. What about you? What in blazes are you doing here in the middle of the night? Where's your mother?"

"Haven't got one."

"Your father, then."

"Haven't got one of those either. I'm an orphan. All I've got is an uncle, and he-" her mouth clamped shut as though she'd already said too much. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could also see the bruise on her cheek, and another braceleting her wrist.

"Did your uncle do that?"

She shook her head, but it didn't matter: her eyes spoke the truth for her.

His mind raced. He had to do something, but he didn't know where he was, or if all of this was even real. He wanted to reach out and stroke her cheek, to offer her some comfort. But something held him back, as though he wasn't in control of his own body. "Listen," he asked the girl, "are we anywhere near Salzburg?'

"Yes, of course," she said, looking at him curiously. "The city's just down the mountain. Are you from around here?"

"Yes. No. Not exactly. The thing is - do you know your way around the city?"

"Y-yes. I go to the market sometimes and steal bread." She looked at him challengingly, waiting for a rebuke, and when none came, she added, "and I have a secret hiding place. Against the rear walls of Nonnberg Abbey. You can hear the sisters sing and there are fruit trees to climb and to eat from."

He knew Nonnberg Abbey, of course. Agathe was an enthusiastic supporter of their work. "Listen," he repeated, more urgently. Somehow, he knew he couldn't stay with her much longer. "Go back to the Abbey, but this time, follow the wall around to the front gate, and ring the bell. Tell them about your uncle and that you need a safe place to live. Can you remember that?"

She nodded. "Yes, but what-"

He was almost out of time, he was certain. He took her chin firmly in his fingers and tilted her face upward.

"Promise me you'll do it."

"All right. Next time."

"Not next time. Tomorrow. You must promise me. Because I don't know how or when, but you'll have to answer to me. Now," he nodded at her hiding spot behind the bales. "Try to get some sleep so you'll be ready to go to town in the morning."

She wasn't used to letting down her guard, but with him hovering nearby, she allowed herself the luxury of a drowsy moment of contentment before sliding into sleep. "Will you sing to me?" she asked.

He only had a few moments left, now, but his lips found the words to the song he'd heard Agathe sing to the children:

"Edelweiss…"

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"The second girl's not out the woods yet."

"He's improving, but slowly."

"He's not strong enough to bear the news."

He thought the recognized Max's voice, but the face that hovered over him was unusually grave and sorrowful. The sight was enough to cause him to turn his face away, toward the wall. He did not want to hear the news that awaited him.

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Maria paused at the edge of a grassy meadow, with majestic mountain peaks rising all around. The air was blessedly cool and clear, and a fresh breeze moved through the trees. She felt something come to life within her as she tripped along the banks of a bubbling creek . The joy blossomed inside until she could no longer bear it and broke into a run, her arms thrown wide as she twirled in wide circles. She knew she shouldn't sing, but the song erupted from deep inside her very soul.

She ran and sang and gamboled about for a long time, until the mountain shadows grew long. She knew she should be getting back, but the very thought of returning made her weary. She dropped to sit beneath tree; surely it wouldn't hurt to close her eyes and rest for a moment.

She was suspended between wakefulness and sleep when she was overtaken by the strangest feeling, as though something, someone, was nearby. She turned and gasped at the sight of a man standing nearby, watching her intently. He was older than she, tall, formidable and somewhat fearsome looking, but somehow she wasn't afraid.

"Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"I'm a sea captain," he replied. "Or I used to be one, anyway."

"You don't look at all like a sea captain. And anyway, we're miles away from the ocean. What are you doing here? Am I dreaming?"

He surprised her by laughing out loud. " I don't know. Who are you? You're hardly dressed for a mountain frolic." His eyes lingered on her drab black uniform and bulky boots.

"Maria Rainier. I'm a postulant at Nonnberg Abbey."

"We're nowhere near Nonnberg, either," he observed, looking around. "Why did they send you here?"

"They didn't. I left. I mean, just for the day. The hills were beckoning. The sky was so blue today, and everything was so green and fragrant, I just _had_ to be a part of it."

She sounded like an unlikely candidate for the cloistered life, but what did he know? "How long have you been at the Abbey?"

"Since I was twelve."

"Isn't that awfully young for a vocation?"

It was her turn to laugh. "I'm not sure I have a vocation. I just haven't ever had anywhere else to go. I do love God. I try to do His will, but sometimes…" she blew out a big sigh, "it's difficult."

She was startled by the sound of the Abbey bells. "Oh, goodness. It's gotten so late. I'm sorry, but I've got to-"

She broke off and looked around wildly.

"What's the matter?"

"My wimple. It's the third one I've lost this year. I won't be a postulant much longer if I don't find it."

"I'll help you look," he offered, grateful for an excuse to keep her there a little longer. He felt as though he'd been weighed down by something too horrible to even name for so long; witnessing the uncomplicated joy of her romp across the meadow had been a welcome relief.

They began to pace the meadow, side by side, eyes on the grass. It was an odd experience, since he couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet, and he searched for some way to distract himself from the sensation. "I say," he blurted, "if you could wish for anything, anything at all, what would it be?"

"I'd love to have a family of my own," she confided.

"You're not likely to have a family if you stay at the Abbey," he teased, "or didn't they explain that to you?

She kept her eyes on the ground, but he saw her cheeks flush. "I'm not likely to have a family anyway. I'm far too outspoken. Boys don't like girls like me."

Feeling the pull of loneliness for Agathe, he wanted to contradict her, but he merely said, "You should follow your dreams. That's what I did. My family have been soldiers for generations, but I wanted to go to sea. My parents were scandalized, but my grandmother insisted I take the chance."

She looked up at him then. "Ah, so you had someone to believe in you and your dream, then." She said it matter-of-factly, without a trace of self-pity.

"I'll tell you what," he burst out. "If you promise me that you will think long and hard about finding the life you were born to live - something you can love for your whole life, the way I loved the sea? - I will be that person for you."

"Ha!" she scoffed. "Who are you to talk? If your life's dream was to be a sailor, why are you here now? On a mountaintop far from the sea?"

"I- I don't know," he fumbled, "but I do know I have a family. Just like the one you're going to have. I've got seven children, the youngest just a baby."

"Oh, how lovely," she enthused, and he was struck again by how pure and unselfish she was in her delight. "I'd love to have a family just like that."

"Then I'm sure someday you will," he encouraged her, and then gave a shout of triumph. "Look! Here's your wimple, safe and sound."

"Thank you so much," she said gratefully, reaching for it, but he held it just out of her reach.

"Not until you promise me that you will remember our talk, and that you will search high and low for your dream."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm barely convinced you're _real_ , and not part of some strange dream! Though you did find my wimple. Anyway, how are you going to know whether I do or I don't?"

"I'm not sure how, but I will." he insisted. He felt himself slipping away, realizing that he had only a few more moments with her. "Somehow I know we'll see each other again. And when we do, I'm going to hold you accountable. Promise me, now. And that's an order."

"Yes, sir," she twinkled, offering an impish salute. And then, before he could say another word, she grabbed the wimple from his hand and went barreling down the mountain toward Salzburg.

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"It's the strangest thing. He's healthy again, and yet he's not."

"The look in his eyes says he's still suffering."

"He hasn't even heard the worst of it yet, but it's as though he knows."

"He's not contagious anymore. Perhaps if we bring the children to him?"

He heard the cry of a baby – yes, it was Gretl. He knew he ought to take charge of her, but what was the point of that when he could not find Agathe to comfort their daughter? He was never going to give up searching for Agathe. The rest of the world could wait.

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

At least this time, he knew where he was: he was standing in the road that led to his very own house, thank heaven. In the distance, he thought he heard music. A chilly rain was falling, although curiously, he remained dry. Thick fog obscured almost everything. He could barely see the lights of the houses set away from the road, and almost bumped into the sign marking the sheltered bus stop. He stumbled before regaining his footing, and let out a curse.

"Who's there?" It was the unsteady voice of a young woman coming who must have been seated in the shelter, though he couldn't see her at all.

"Don't be afraid," he reassured her. "I won't hurt you. What are you doing out here in this miserable weather?"

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm waiting for a bus."

"I'm sure there's no bus until the morning," he told her, although he hadn't taken a bus for a long time, not since the globe-wandering early years of his naval career.

"Yes, there is," she said. "It won't come for a while, but I couldn't bear being there anymore. I just had to get away." her voice trailed off, and he knew without a doubt that she'd been crying.

"Do you need help?"

"Yes. I mean, no," she stumbled. "I'm going to be fine. It's nice and dry inside the shelter, at least. It's been a long and difficult night, is all. I was just so tired...actually, I thought I'd fallen asleep when you came along. Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm a- oh, never mind that," he said. "You wouldn't believe me anyway. Look, you can't stay out here overnight. These are dangerous times. Can't you go back where you came from, at least until the morning?"

"It's not going to be overnight, I told you, there's a bus on the way, and anyhow, I can't go back."

"Why not?"

"It would be too humiliating." She didn't know what possessed her, but she was so miserable, out here in the wet, chilly darkness, and his voice was so warm and comforting, that she couldn't help unburdening herself. "You see, I, well, I fell in love."

"I see. Did he not love you back?"

"I _thought_ he did. But perhaps - I don't know anything about men."

"Well, I do. He must have been a rascal. A bounder."

"Oh, no, not at all. He's a fine man, and a brave one. He's a national hero, actually. It's just that he's more, well, sophisticated than I am. Older. I was just a silly girl with a crush."

Something in her description caught his attention, but there wasn't time to think about it; he thought he might be slipping away again. "You ought to give him a chance to explain himself. At least go back and find out if he loves you. I can tell you from experience, men are terrible at that kind of thing. Can you do that for me?"

They were interrupted by the roar of a bus. "I told you so," she said, a touch of amusement leavening her voice.

"Listen," he said urgently. "Think it over. Giving him a second chance, I mean. Will you promise me that?"

"I don't think I'm brave enough for that," she wavered. "Not yet, anyway. I need some time to myself. But maybe someday, I'll consider it. And thank you for listening." He heard the doors slide closed, and the bus roar past, and she was lost to him.

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

He slipped away, tumbling through a swirling darkness, for how long he didn't know. Then he heard a voice from out of the mist, and glimpsed her at last, her long white-gold curls and warm brown eyes, the way she'd been when they first met.

"Georg, what are you doing here? You must go back!"

"Agathe? Is that you? I've been looking all over for you. What is this place?"

"You don't belong here, Georg. You must go back. Please, the children need you desperately!"

"Agathe," he pleaded, though he didn't quite understand what he was pleading for. "Please don't make me do that."

"It's not time yet, Georg. You must go back. You must go back," she repeated, and he watched helplessly as she slipped away.

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

She found herself on the terrace behind the villa. Nothing had changed: everything was just as it had been during that eventful summer so many years ago. The lake sparkled in the sun, and green mountains reached into an impossibly blue sky. A gentle breeze cooled the air.

He was standing with his back to her, fingers twitching at his side impatiently in that familiar, beloved gesture she had missed so much. To her delight, it was easier, now, to move without making any sound or disturbance at all. She was able to sneak up behind him and put her hands over his eyes.

"Guess who?"

"Maria!" he cried, before she knew it, he had turned and pulled her into a crushing embrace. Her head fell on his shoulder in relief, and she was still trying to choke out a greeting when he spoke first.

"What took you so long? It's been thirty years!"

"Oh, Georg," she said, half laughing and half crying, "Nothing was the same while you were away. But after all those times you moped about our age difference, what did you think would happen? I wasn't happy about it either, but I had a lot left to do. The children finishing school and marrying. The grandchildren, the farm."

"I was with you every step along the way, Maria. And I was so proud of you. I only wish I could have been by your side for the hard parts."

She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek. She could hardly believe they were together again! "I felt guilty, Georg, sometimes. Being able to laugh again. Enjoying the children. Spending time outdoors, in the mountains. Traveling. Even something as simple as a loaf of freshly baked bread. Things you weren't there to enjoy with me."

"No, no," he said. "It was better this way. It gave me time to see the others who came before. The men I served with. My parents. Agathe."

She nodded, and they shared a quiet moment, gazing into each other's' eyes.

"So," she said asked tentatively. "What happens now? Where are we going? I hope it's near the sea. You always loved the sea, and after all those years when you had to be away from it…"

"We will be near the sea, definitely, " he reassured her, his lips grazing her forehead. "And the mountains as well. I know how much you love the mountains. Now. Are you ready?" he asked.

"I need a minute," she hesitated, "it's all so new, all of this. And a little strange, you know?"

"Don't worry, he said, tucking her arm firmly into his. "I'll be watching out for you."

She smiled.

"You always do, Georg, don't you?"

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O -O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

 _Two happy lovers, without an ending, with no death,  
they are born, they die, many times while they live:  
they have the eternal life of the Natural._

 _-Pablo Neruda_

 **O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O -O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

 **I have no interest in anything supernatural or paranormal. No vampires. Nothing like that. One day, though, I happened to remember the movie (and mediocre TV show) "The Ghost & Mrs. Muir," with its own handsome sea captain who DOES look like a sea captain. One thing led to another and this story is the result, though it's not exactly the same thing, is it? Please leave me a review and tell me what you think of my first (and last) foray into the paranormal. I found it challenging to know what had to be "realistic" or consistent in this kind of story, and I thank ****ThePoorDidntWantThisOne for her encouraging review** **. I don't own TSOM, all for love, and so on.**


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